


Bad Romance

by deadgirldancer



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: Abusive Relationships, F/M, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2018-01-02 02:23:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadgirldancer/pseuds/deadgirldancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joker and Harley, a rough night, and mood swings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Romance

**Author's Note:**

> This fic doesn't have rape in it. I use the phrase 'taken advantage' but meant it as he was mocking her.

A singular bulb, no shade, swinging back and forth, shedding light and shadow across the bedroom; her clothes and hat thrown to the floor; he walked with possessive perspective, overlooking her, perhaps looking down at her.

He pitied her - a senseless, stupid little girl always looking for guidance or approval. Of course she’d rarely get approval from him, so why bother? Though he did enjoy the attention he received and the fact he had a free human punch bag, who didn’t complain; very much.

He enjoyed the authoritative aspect to this relationship, being the person in charge, while having the power to control the lesser person in the relationship, in other words he enjoyed the amount of power he possessed being in this relationship.

She had a bruise starting to develop on her cheek, yet another physical sign of her belonging to him. He had kicked her, punched her, slapped her; he’s raised a kitchen knife at her and even put a gun to her head.

She put up with it; it was all she knew, as his girlfriend; if you’d call it that.

It was his right. She chose to be with him in the first place, so why would she complain? He believed she secretly enjoyed it, a pure masochist, going out with a sadist, how delightful.

She touched her cheek, and started to whimper at the pain. He whirled around his eyes maddening and his temple bulging. He grasped his handgun, and pointed it toward her. So it all came down to this - he was going to pull the trigger, and it was obvious that he was, so she let out a cry, a cry for help, and she didn’t care where help came from. Her hips hurt, since he continually hit the butt of his handgun against them constantly.

She closed her eyes tight, ready for what would happen next.

A clatter sounded throughout the room.

The bullet never came; he waited until she opened her eyes, so she could witness what would happen next. He yanked on one of her blonde ponytails, making her stand up. She didn’t make eye contact, she couldn’t - it could enrage him again.

Earlier, he had back-handed her and she fell to the ground - it was, a shame, of course. While on the floor, he had taken advantage of her, he had ripped her clothes off her and had laughed in her face, leaving her in her underwear.

He had straddled her, disabling the use of her legs, and grabbing both wrists with a hand. He had mocked her, whispering in her ear:

“Harley, my dear, you should be having fun, dying with laughter, perhaps.” His violent shade of green hair tickled her face. He had lowered his scarlet lips to her, and they had brushed against her neck.

Now, he was towering over her, a vision of power. “Mistah J?” He pushed her against the bedroom door. Her bra straps fell off her shoulders, while he began to kiss her or is he devouring her skin?

She began to whimper in happiness. He opened his eyes and pulled away. “Time to be frank,” she started to pay attention, “I am a sadist, am I not? Harley, I enjoy your masochism. But I also pity you.” Moments of silence passed. “Time for bed.”

She looked at him oddly, “Puddin’?”

“I have gotten bored and tired, my dear, oh and by the way, you look dreadful. Try putting some clothes on, pooh.”


End file.
